


Story of a messed up town

by kittipaws



Category: Town of Salem (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Amnesia, Bad Parenting, Blood and Gore, Bullying, Execution, Eye Trauma, F/F, F/M, Hospitals, M/M, Multi, Murder, Other, POV Multiple, Tags will be updated, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-10 22:15:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18416933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittipaws/pseuds/kittipaws
Summary: the story of all the messed up residents in this town, and how factions can influence them.





	1. waking up

**Author's Note:**

> hi, this is another attempt at writing a multi-chaptered fic for town of salem...this is in spirit a rewrite of "button eye" which i wrote a few months ago and abandoned before i could finish the 5th chapter (that one was good bc thats when nadia/aspen started),,,however the events that take place in this have changed from the original,,,also this will be focusing on multiple characters instead of just the amnesiac because tbh that would be boring no offense nadia,,, enjoy

Sounds of heart monitors were the first thing the Amnesiac heard as her eyes slowly fluttered open, her vision still blurry, not being able to make out anything clearly. She didn’t remember how she got here, she couldn’t remember much at all. She slowly tried to get up, only to wince in pain.

“Don’t do that, you’ll only hurt yourself.” She noticed the doctor standing at the door in the hospital room she was in, she was an older woman with white streaks in her dark hair, one eye was a dark brown and the other was a light grey. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine...i guess…” Nadia mumbled, barely loud enough for herself to hear.

“Speak up, I can’t hear you.” 

“I said...I’m fine.” Nadia repeated herself, this time loud enough to hear. “How did I get here?”

“You really don’t remember?” The doctor questioned. Nadia nodded. “You were found unconscious with a missing eyeball. Whatever happened must have hit hard.”

Nadia felt her face, she felt the bandages that covered where one of her eyes should be and was wrapped around her head. She had no memory of this happening...how could she just lose an eye and not remember it?

“How much do you remember?” The doctor pried her out of her thoughts.

“I...don’t know…” Nadia thought as hard as she could...but nothing coherent came into her mind, only very vague feelings she couldn’t pin down. She felt as if she was being asked about a complete stranger. She felt as if she was a stranger to herself, not being able to recall anything she did in the past months or even years, she couldn’t tell how much went missing from her memories.

“Give it time, you will remember eventually. Now if you excuse me, I have to speak with someone...if you need anything just call for a nurse.” The doctor left the room.

Nadia winced in pain as she reached for the tv remote. She turned on the television mounted on the wall in front of her bed. She flipped through channels before realizing how limited the hospital television was, there was nothing that she liked, it was all just news and morning talk shows. She decided to settle for some boring cooking show...she didn’t even like cooking, she felt like everything she ever tried to cook herself came out awful.

A knock was heard on the door as a nurse entered the room. He was short, thin, and pale. He had messy dark brown hair that looked like it hadn’t been brushed in years, there were dark circles under his dark green eyes. He smiled as he held a bag of fluid in his hands and hooked it onto the iv stand next to her. Nadia looked at her arm to realize there was a needle in her arm.

“It’s a pain reliever.” He said. “I can’t image you are feeling too well after the state you were in.”

“Thanks.” She mumbled. Shortly after, she felt a cold feeling in her arm as the medicine went into her veins.

After the nurse left, she watched the television. The cooking show from earlier was over and now the news began.

“Good morning, welcome back to the news. First, let’s talk about the weather.” The lady on the television talked. “It’s a cold and rainy april day, expect showers all day long.” At least Nadia now had an idea of what time of year it was. As she continued to watch, she noticed how her body started to feel light and how her eyes grew tired. Eventually she let herself drift off into unconsciousness.

When she awoke, she looked into the golden eyes of a strange woman. She had tan skin and medium length copper brown hair that reached her shoulders. She was dressed casually in a plain t shirt with a plaid flannel over it, she had jeans that were ripped, showing her skin.

“Nadia, I’m so glad you’re ok.” The strange woman said.

“Yeah, I’m ok I guess.” Nadia mumbled.

“I can’t wait until you’re discharged and we can go home.” The strange woman said happily, which left Nadia confused, she didn’t remember her.

“What do you mean “we can go home”? I don’t know you.” Nadia asked.

“You really don’t remember me? All that we have been through?” The strange woman gave her a heartbroken look.

“Just give her time.” The doctor from earlier suddenly called out, she stood quietly near the door so Nadia didn’t even notice her presence before. “She’ll remember eventually, don’t overwhelm her or confuse her.”

“Sorry.” The woman apologized.

“I’ll leave you two alone now.” The doctor closed the door as she left them alone. There was an awkward silence in the room that was interrupted by the television. It was the same news program from earlier.

“Local arsonist was caught and executed last night.” The woman on the television read.

“Executed?” Nadia wondered. “Isn’t the death sentence illegal in this state?”

“They made it legal again with all the murders that have been going on.” the woman explained. “There have been so much crime and death in even this small town up here in the past few years. It scares me.”

Nadia didn’t really have a response, she just continued to stare at the television, the face of the now dead arsonist was displayed.

“I wish it didn’t have to come to this...you didn’t have to do this…” The woman said, not so much at Nadia herself, but at the television. She wondered if the two knew each other somehow.

“Hey...you know my name...but I don’t know yours.” Nadia said awkwardly as she realized she had no idea what this stranger’s name was.

“It’s Aspen.” Aspen reintroduced herself.

“Ah…” Nadia paused. “How did we know each other?”

“You really don’t remember…” Aspen paused. “We were dating.”

“Wait, really? I don’t remember that. I thought i would have remembered something like that.” Nadia said.

“That’s what i thought.” Aspen added. “But apparently not…”

The two talked and watched the television for a while, until Aspen had to leave, leaving Nadia alone with her thoughts.

…

A few days had passed and the day had come for Nadia to be discharged. She was physically healthy enough to go home, she didn’t wince in pain everytime she moved. Aspen brought her to her pickup truck and helped her up. She turned on the music and put in her own CD, it was the album fallen by evanescence.

“I know you used to like this band.” Aspen said as evanescence’s bring me to life played in the truck.

The rest of the ride was quiet aside from the depressing yet beautiful music that played. Nadia didn’t talk, she listened as Aspen occasionally made small comments on how the snow finally melted and how she wishes the weather would warm up enough so it would be socially acceptable to wear shorts again. After about 20 minutes they finally reached a long dirt driveway hidden among the barren spring trees, leading to a cabin concealed by the woods.

Aspen lead her into her home, it was a small and cozy cabin, with cluttered furniture that made the home seemed very homey and lived in.

“Welcome back home.”


	2. the fire goes out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the arsonist gets what's coming for him

The arsonist reflects on his life leading up to this moment, his life leading up before being locked in this jail cell and waiting to be killed. The last thing he remembers was pouring the gasoline onto the mayor’s house but before he could ignite it and burn it to the ground, he was caught and put into handcuffs and forced into jail. He was told he would be executed tonight...it was better than rotting in prison for years, he thought.

The air in the dark jail cell felt cold as he continued to think of his life before his death. He thought of that stupid sheriff who never caught onto his little secret, how he had so many cans of gasoline in his garage and how he always had a box of matches on him. He was dumb, yet stupidly loveable. Jack was the only person he actually liked in this dumb town, ironic it was, an arsonist falling in love with a person who could so easily catch him and let him rot in prison for the rest of his life. Love really does make you blind.

Arthur thought back on his home life. Would he even get to see his mother again? He felt as if he would be going to a different place than her. He didn’t even believe in the afterlife, good thing, because he would surely be rotting in hell. That night his father told him the news that she had been murdered, he wanted to cry but couldn't’. But little Aspen couldn’t help but cry. Of course she couldn’t, she was always mom’s favorite. 

He realized that he wouldn’t be able to say goodbye to his father or his sister after all these years later. He wasn’t sure if he should be glad or sad. At least, they wouldn’t be here in person to see their disappointment of a son and a brother die a criminal. He was glad he couldn’t be humiliated any further before his early death.

“It’s time.” A voice interrupted his thoughts as the Jailor opened the cell door with a key in one hand and a gun in the other. This execution wasn’t very official. Nobody was there to restrain him or anything, if he really wanted to he could at least attempt to beat up this stupid Jailor while handcuffed. But, he decided it wasn’t worth it.

Was there really any worth to a life only filled with destruction and hate? 

The gun was placed against his head, he knew as soon as the Jailor pulled the trigger his brain and blood would splatter against the cold wall of the jail cell. “Any last words?”

“Whatever.” Arthur said as deadpan as possible. He couldn’t give this bastard the satisfaction of being scared to die.

3…

2…

1…

BANG!

After the gunshot fired and the echoes faded and the jail cell was quiet. The arsonist would never make another sound as layed there dead. The Jailor got to work on cleaning the mess he made up, a part of his job he hated, but was necessary.


	3. grief, death, and longing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the sheriff drinks his sorrows away, and the investigator doesn't know why her boyfriend is always so busy.

The sheriff stared at the empty shot glass in his hand. He lost count of how many shots he had this night. He came to this bar to drink his sorrows away, it’s not something he usually did, but due to recent events he just wanted to forget it all. He didn’t want to be sober again, all he could focus on while sober was grief and sadness. It felt like he was suffocating. He looked around at the bar, everyone was talking, laughing, and overall having a good time. But he couldn’t relate to them, not now at least. 

He decided he needed another drink to make him forget everything.

“I’m cutting you off.” The bartender said. “You’ve had enough.”

“No..i didn’t.” Jack slurred his words together, his breath reeked of rum.

“Tell me what that clock says.”

Jack stared at the clock , his vision too blurry to make out where the hour hand even was. “8 pm.” He answered.

“Wrong, it’s 10 pm.” The bartender tells him.

“Fuck..man.” Jack said defeatedly. “Guess i’ll….go home.” His legs feel like jello as he tries to stand up, he held onto the counter to support himself.

“Will you be ok?” The bartender asked with a concerned look on his face.

“I’ll be fine...i’ll...walk.” He started walking towards the door slowly. “See ya.” The sheriff had a hard time opening the door before finally realizing he was supposed to pull the door.

“Poor fella.” A voice behind the bartender said. The bartender turned around to see his co-worker Janice there. She was short but awfully smug.

“Yeah.” Lucas agrees.

“Another one down.” Lucas said in a hushed voice, as so the bar goers can’t hear them. “Maybe it’s for the best, after his loss and all. I can’t help but feel bad.”

“Don’t feel bad.” Janice said. “We’re just getting rid of our obstacles.”

“Isn’t your girlfriend the medium...or was it the retributionist?” Lucas asked.

“Both of them actually.” Janice said.

“Right…” Lucas paused, not quite sure how to respond to that. “What if you lost them like the sheriff lost his boyfriend?”

“That won’t happen.” 

“But how do you know that?”

“Oh, i just do.” Janice smirked. She would never let them die, and she would never tell the boss about this either. She didn’t need someone controlling her life.

…

The mafioso shivered as he stood in the cold alleyway away from the streetlight. He waited hours for his target to show up, but there was no sign of him yet. He couldn’t just leave, if he did he would get demoted. He did not want to be a janitor, he thought, Janice was the only one in the mafia who deserved that job. Why does the mafia even need a janitor, he thought.

He suddenly noticed the drunk sheriff walking by on the sidewalk ever so slowly. The sheriff was totally unaware of his presence nearby lurking in the darkness of the alleyway, like a cat about to pounce on a mouse. The mafioso quickly readied his gun, and held his fingers on the trigger, eagerly waiting for the right moment to fire.

The sheriff walked right into the perfect spot and the mafioso pulls the trigger, hitting the sheriff right through the head and knocking him down onto the cold hard sidewalk as he bleeds out. The mafioso ran out of there and away from the scene of the crime, making sure nobody could see him. He ran into the safety of the local bar. Unknown to the residents of this town, the bar was actually owned by the local mafia.

“Nice shot.” The Janitor whispered as she passes by him to go wash a table.

“Good job.” The Framer praised him.

It was just another ordinary job for the mafioso.

…

The consigliere held the investigator’s hand, the investigator smooth hand contrasting with the consigliere’s rough and calloused hand. They reached their destination, the investigator’s home. It was a small yet lovely home. The interior was nice, she always did have an eye for interior decorating.

“Goodnight.” The tired consigliere said.

“Aren’t you going to stay?” The investigator asked, almost begging him to stay with her this night.

“I have things to take care of, I’m sorry.” He apologized.

“Again? You’re always busy.” She whined.

“I know.” He said. “I promise, sometime soon.”

“Alright.” She sighed.

She reached up to try and kiss him, but is still not able to reach him, he leaned down to meet her warm lips that were covered in red lipstick. He tried to pull away after a few seconds, but she doesn’t let him, holding him in for longer, kissing him with longing.

“Goodnight.” She said and stared up into his eyes after their long kiss.

“Stay safe.” He said as he leaves.

Kristin never knew what Cedric was so busy with. Cedric didn’t want to say. He couldn’t imagine it would go well if he ever told her he was the mafia’s private investigator. His mind went through all sorts of hypothetical situations that could happen as he walked home on this cold night. In one situation, he saw her crying, and then screaming that he was a traitor. Another one where she puts him and prison and let him die. His brain hurt after thinking of all the awful things that could happen. 

But he knew he couldn’t just lie forever. He just didn’t know when he would ever tell her. To be honest, he never wanted to tell her, he just wanted to stay in this blissful unaware state with her and not have to worry about either of them ever being in danger.

But he knew that would be too good to be true.


	4. Beginnings of Murder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the serial killer and why hes...like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo sorry for not updating in a while i think,,,this has been sitting as a wip for a while lol...this one is kind of short bc i didnt know what else to add to this mainly bc i had ideas and might change things that will happen later and i gotta just....figure out what the hell even happens in this lol.

Dustin was just a normal teenager, or so he liked to think, despite being considered “not right in the head” or a “freak” by many people, even his own mother. However things changed. It was the last year of high school, last year of this hell. Eventually he would leave this school full of people who hated him, leave this town that held so many bad memories, and leave his mother who never gave a shit about him.

He walked home one fateful day after school, planning on heading to the woods afterwards, like he sometimes did. He was in the more secluded area nearby the woods where no one usually came, he was almost there. But his plans changed quickly when he heard a familiar voice call out to him.

“Hey, freak.” Next thing Dustin knew a pebble was thrown at him from behind him, hitting him on the head with a small but painful thud.

“Leave me alone...or you’ll regret it…” He said quietly.

“Yeah, what are you going to do?” The bully laughed.

“You’ll see if you keep testing me.” He turned around and smiled, trying not to let anger or excitement at his plan show.

Next thing he knew he was knocked onto the hard ground and pinned down. “I’ll beat that smirk off your face.”

But before the bully could hit him, a sharp pain pierced his stomach as Dustin pulled out his pocket knife and stabbed him. And again...and again...Dustin kept stabbing and didn’t stop, he couldn’t stop. It felt too good, the feeling of finally getting what he deserved.

“In the end it was me who beat the smirk off your face, not you. How does it feel when you’re the one getting beat up for once?”

The bully didn’t respond as he layed dead on the sidewalk as his blood started to pool around him.

“Ah, giving me the silent treatment are you?” He giggled.

Dustin felt great, a little too great, he was laughing, he was ecstatic, too ecstatic. He finally felt like he could control his shitty life, the thrill was great. He eventually calmed down and realized his actions and that he needed to dispose of the body asap, and wondered where he could dump the body. He couldn’t let anyone know this happened, he was too young to let his life get fucked over like this.

He managed to drag the body to the local cemetery unnoticed and grabbed a shovel, time to get digging. He did a sloppy job of digging a hole, but it should be big enough to bury the dude, he thought. He buried the body and made sure that the arms didn’t stick out. He looked at the sky to see the sunset tinting the world around him in a warm but dark tone as the sun set, the chill of the night starting to set in. He decided to wait until nightfall, so he would go unnoticed. 

He managed to sneak home without anyone noticing him and his clothing that was now dirty and covered with a beautiful shade of crimson blood. He snuck into the house, his mother nowhere to be found. He supposed that was the only time when he appreciated his mother’s total apathy towards his existence. He cleaned himself up and giggled to himself as he looked back on the murder. He spent the night pacing in his room, unable to sleep with all the thoughts in his head racing. 

That was how the serial killer in him was born all those years ago. It’s been several years, he is now well into his 20s and managed to leave that awful place after his mother’s death. He had a job at the hospital despite not having a real license - it was really surprising how the people in this small town bought that fake license - yet he felt like something was missing. He felt alone, all of his close family dead and never having any friends to turn to, all of his previous lovers left him or had a “mysterious” disappearance, leaving him with no one to love.

But deep down he wondered if a murderer like him even deserved love. He knew that he was a monster, but he couldn’t help himself, it was a primal human need that kept getting stronger as the years went by. Could anyone accept him for how unhinged he was and still love him?


End file.
